I think I’ve outgrown this kind of thing:
Men who like watches are split into categories. There are those who delight in intricate movements, what writer and watch obsessive Gary Shteyngart once described as ‘a small city of silver and gold gears and wheels, a miniature three-dimensional universe in which everyone is running to catch the next bus’. These men turn their noses up at overly commonplace brands like Rolex, which makes in the region of one million watches per year. Their preferred marques are rare and meticulously hand-crafted by the boutique manufactures of Breguet, Patek Philippe and Vacheron Constantin. A highly collectible Patek Philippe model, the limited-edition Calibre 89 (the world’s most complicated watch, with 33 functions and 1,278 parts) sold at auction in 2004 for more than $5 million.
…and that’s possibly because as I’ve got older and the chances are getting increasingly smaller of winning a lottery that could fund such an obsession, the prospect of being a horologista (what?) as explained in the above article. (I also detest this linguistic tic of turning words into ur-Spanish derivations, but that’s a topic for another time.)
Also, I have begun to prefer simple things — a stick shift over a Formula 1-style steering-wheel button gear-shifter, for example — and as far as watches are concerned, this has coincided with finally finding the watch I’m wearing at this very moment, a Tissot Heritage Petite Second manual:
…which happens to satisfy all my needs in that it’s simple, inexpensive, not showy or a “snob” brand, and made in Switzerland rather than in some Asian sweatshop.
A funny thing happened when I first strapped this watch on: in an instant, I lost almost all desire to own another watch — in fact, since that day I’ve not worn any of my other watches, and even in that lottery dream, the desire to own that Vacheron Constantin or Patek Philippe has almost disappeared.
My distant-#2 favorite watch is also a Tissot:
…but it’s driven by a battery (ugh) and the only reason I like it at all is that it has Roman numerals — that classical background is very difficult to shake off, let me tell you. I wear it pretty much only when I’m going to do something that may cause damage to what I’m wearing on my wrist, and at about $200 retail (under half the cost of the Heritage), I’m not going to slit my wrists if the thing gets busted.
All that said, I understand the fascination that watches hold for men — it’s almost exclusively male, this watch fetish — just as I understand (only too well) what makes men lust after certain cars, guns, cameras or any of the countless number of gadgets that take our fancy.
And as with all such obsessions, price is seldom a factor unless it’s stupid — stupidity as defined by the individual himself and not the uncomprehending others.
I recently showed a Dino Ferrari with a half-million dollar price tag — which is, as I said at the time, stupid money for a Dino. On the other hand, I see that Iain Tyrrell is restoring a Dino of similar vintage, and I estimate that the depth of said restoration will cost the Dino’s owner about a hundred thousand dollars — and for him, it’ll be worth every penny.
It wouldn’t be, for me; but I sure as hell understand why it would be, for him — just as I understand why someone would drop a still-greater amount on a Vacheron Constantin Overseas model, like this one:
Lovely, innit? If you’re into that kind of thing.
